


Two Days Later

by Fuckedupbabe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Domestic Violence, Gen, Scenes with abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 00:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2487773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuckedupbabe/pseuds/Fuckedupbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader suffers from PTSD due to her parents abuse. Sam and Dean wake her from a nightmare and questions arise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Days Later

It’s been two days. Two days and my sprained wrist hadn’t swelled down or gotten any less painful. Two days since I left home and came to stay with Sam and Dean. Two dreadful days since my parents have beaten me, hopefully for the last time. Luckily, that last time wasn’t as bad as the others. I’ve endured beatings that have left me with broken ribs, concussions, and the inability to breathe correctly for days afterwards. The brothers didn’t know about my wrist. They didn’t know about any of this, and I planned on keeping it that way.

The boys had been out on a hunt for the past two hours, leaving my sprained wrist and me behind. I tried doing whatever I could to distract myself. I would have loved to go hunting with them, but they didn’t want me hurting myself any more, at least not until I was fully healed. Eventually, I decided that sleeping would be the best activity to keep me from going insane.

" _Please, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. I was just walking and I ran into the shelf. It fell! It was an accident. Please.” I was begging not to get beaten again. Despite my efforts, my mother swung her fist into my jaw, making me stumble backwards into the wall. I slid to the floor and continued pleading for the abuse to stop. It was no use. Both of my parents were hurting me, now; taking swing after swing and causing me an immense amount of pain. I was crying uncontrollably. I thought that I would be used to the pain by now, used to the beatings and the spitting in my face. It seemed that I’d never get used to it, now._

The next thing I know, Dean, a worried Sam by his side, shook me awake. Before I had fully woken up, I cowered behind my hands and yelled out, “please don’t hit me, I’m sorry!”

“(y/n), wake up! It’s us. It’s Sam and Dean.”

I slowly moved my hands from my face, breathing a sigh of relief when I realized where I was. “Sorry guys, just a nightmare.”

“About what,” Sam asked me.

“Just something stupid that happened. It’s over now. I just need to learn how to deal with the PTSD of it all. It doesn’t matter.”

I stood up and began walking towards the bathroom to rinse my sweat-covered face. “Why would we hit you,” Dean asked, stopping me in my tracks.

I turned to face the two. “What do you mean? I know you guys would never hit me.”

“When you woke up, you yelled out ‘please don’t hit me.’ Why would we hit you?”

“You wouldn’t. I know that. Like I said, it was just a nightmare. Nothing to worry about,” I replied with a smile plastered on my face.

Dean shrugged it off, but Sam kept pushing. “What PTSD? You said PTSD caused your nightmare. PTSD from what?”

I was found out. In my half-asleep, half-terrified state, I had mentioned that it was about something that has already happened; something that gave me PTSD. I had to confess. I knew the boys would never stop bothering me if I hadn’t told them. I began explaining, starting with a sigh of defeat. “PTSD from my parents. They-they hit me. A lot. That’s why I would always come stay with you guys for a few days at a time. Not ‘cause I was doing a hunt in the area. They would hurt me and I would leave for a bit, hoping that when I returned, things would be different. It’s already been over two days. I should probably be heading back anyways.”

“(y/n), you’re not going back to live with your parents. There’s no way we’re letting that happen.”

“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing I don’t need your permission. Sam, I’m not going to stay with you and Dean. I think I cause enough trouble as is, wherever I go. I’m not going to bother you anymore. You gave me a place to stay for a few days, and now I have to go.” I grabbed my bag that I had been packing while speaking and began walking towards the stairs of the bunker.

“Hey, hold on. Come back here,” Dean said, grabbing my wrist. I immediately pulled it away, squealing in pain at the contact. “What happened to your wrist?”

“Nothing. Hunt gone wrong. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Did your parents do that to you?” He gently took hold of my arm and rolled up my sleeve, revealing a swollen blue and black wrist.

“It’s fine, Dean. I’ve dealt with worse.” Sam strode over and examined the damage.

“(y/n), your wrist is broken,” Sam stated simply.

“What are you talking about? It’s a sprain. Nothing more.”

“It’s broken. Here, come sit. I’ll get the first aid kit and wrap it up.” I sighed again and sat on the first step. Sam returned moments later, sitting down in front of me, with Dean beside me, and began wrapping up my broken wrist. “You can’t go back, you know that right? We’re not going to let you.”

“Please, Sam?”

“No,” Dean spoke up. “You’re lucky that we’re keeping you here and not going over there to kick your parents’ asses. You’re staying with us, and that’s final.”

I rolled my eyes, a small smirk on my face, and thanked him. Sam had finished bandaging my wrist and they told me that I should go get some more rest. They told me that they would keep an eye on me, just in case I had another nightmare.


End file.
